Seojin stared blankly at the floating system interface before him.
[Basic Information]
Name: Seven Hart (Yoon Seojin)
Age: 15 (21)
[Skills]
Self-proclaimed Genius
[Inactive Debuffs]
Skibidi | Sigma | Rizz | Sus | Gyatt | Ohio | NPC
Seojin's eyes lingered on the debuffs.
"That's… really fudged up."
That first damned brainrot reply to his comment actually took effect. It also had no descriptions to, at least, know what their effects were.
Seojin's expression turned into an art that is hard to describe, like an apple taped to a canvas.
To think that he, who intentionally delayed his military service for a greater cause— to enlist after two years of 'me time' to dodge the bullet of his parents forcing their chosen career paths upon him— ended up with this reality.
"...Daaaaamn it. What am I even supposed to do with this shit?"
But the more he thought about it, the clearer one thing became:
Complaining wouldn't change a thing.
Truth is, the one he should be thinking about was not the system, nor the debuffs, nor how his body was exactly the same as Seojin but was wearing different clothes.
As cliche as it was, his current situation belonged to those "I got transported to another world, and now I need to overcome a deathflag" type of shits.
Because even though this character matched the details of his comment, it didn't mean 'Seven' had mysteriously appeared out of thin air.
It was already an existing character, an off-page extra who happened to fit the criteria of his comment.
'Seven Hart…'
Calling him an 'extra' might have been too generous, as his entire existence was meant to be sacrificed for another character's development.
By the time Seojin was done thinking, the system interface had already disappeared before him.
Step, step.
After taking a brief, cold shower to wash himself, Seojin hopped inside a noble-looking bathtub, big enough to fit three of him all at once.
Well, as it should be.
The name [Hart] was one among the feared households of the continent, a family renowned for their excellence over the sword as far as history could go back to.
"As ironic and cliche as it may sound, this character is also the renowned first failure throughout the family's history."
If only that wasn't the case— sigh, nevermind.
In stories like this, it was expected for him to start as an extra, and there should be a guiding system. But that didn't seem to be the case for him.
"Self-proclaimed genius…"
Seojin frowned, running a hand through his wet hair. He asked for a genius skill, but the system seemed to tell him, "you are a genius, figure it out yourself."
"Hah. This sucks. Truly, truly sucks."
Not realizing it, Seojin fell asleep in the middle of a luxurious bath.
He hadn't shown much excitement about being transmigrated earlier, but in his sleep, his heart pounded like crazy as if it wanted to break out from his ribs and escape.
Time passed.
Seojin woke up after about half an hour, and yet his skin showed no wrinkles one would normally have after being submerged that long.
Rinsing himself off, he hung the towel on his shoulder and walked out the door.
But.
Just as he stepped out, a woman entered the room at the same time with a tray of breakfast in her hands.
"..."
"..."
The two stared at each other awkwardly for a minute or so.
"Please forgive me for seeing that sorry thing, my lord. I simply wanted to deliver the breakfast as I said earlier."
"...?!"
The woman remained unbothered, placing the tray on the desk.
After that, Seojin was still standing in the same position as if caught in surprise that his body tensed.
The woman then looked him straight in the eye before finally making her way out, making his already red cheeks turned even more red.
A lifetime worth of virginity had not prepared him for this.
Creak.
The door shut.
It took Seojin a while to escape his daze, making his way towards the closet and grabbing a set of clothes.
He then walked towards the desk and helped himself.
The set contained freshly baked butter croissant with honey and cream, a silver tray of potato stew, along with a herbal tea.
Munch, munch.
"Ah. I couldn't see her basic information? I mean, didn't systems like this usually have that kind of ability?"
Munch.
Seojin wondered if these fancy foods would be digested by his picky stomach, but he finished them anyway.
The only one he didn't quite like was the herbal tea.
"Grah. It tastes nasty."
Thankfully, the woman was not there to hear it, but still, he was a little guilty about complaining about free food.
This was the first decent meal he had for about three months, as he simply settled with instant ramens and rice.
Creak.
The woman came back to tidy up the tray.
Seojin decided this might be a good opportunity to get to know her, especially since he hadn't inherited any of Seven Hart's memories.
"Hey. This might sound weird, but— uaghh!"
Seojin groaned as memories suddenly came crushing all at once as if in response to his thoughts, accompanied by searing pain.
The woman immediately set the tray aside and rushed to his aid.
Her expression remained composed (showing no outward sign of worry), but a soft green light bloomed from her palm and pressed against Seojin's back.
A healing spell.
"Forgive my presumption, my lord. Are you in pain?"
She received no reply.
Seojin was too preoccupied with the sudden influx of memories to even hear her words.
It took some time for the pain to subside and for his breathing to steady, and only then did the woman withdraw her hand, the glow fading.
"Iria?"
Seojin muttered, eyes still closed.
"Yes, my lord? Are you feeling any better now?"
"Iria."
"Pardon?"
"Iria…"
Seojin said the name of the woman over and over, again and again, based on the memory. He then turned to face her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, making him look unbearably fragile.
"Will I be able to form my first zi ring if I tried hard every single day?"
"My lord…"
It was now clear that the Iria was his personal maid, assigned to the youngest of the Hart, the only one entrusted to remain by his side at all times.
Iria stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.
Seojin didn't resist, his face pressed against her soft chest, close enough to hear the rhythm of her heart.
The reason he kept repeating Iria's name was because he tried to recall which part of memory is similar to this scenario.
As it turns out, Seven Hart had said those same words to her countless times. Almost every day. Every time his attempt to form his first zi ring ended in failure, he would turn to Iria and ask the same question.
"It is alright, my lord. You have me. I will always remain by your side."
Iria tightened her hold on him just a little as her hand moved to his back, the same way it always had.
The tension in Seojin's body slowly eased.
His breathing steadied, and the trembling in his hands faded as the warmth of her presence lingered.
After a moment, Iria stepped away and bowed her head.
"Please rest for now, my lord. I will be just outside to accomplish my daily duties. Please call me if you need anything."
"Yes."
Step, step.
Iria stepped out of the room, carrying the tray with her.
"Pathetic."
Seojin cursed himself, or more like the original Seven Hart.
It was not because Seven had always shown such fragility, but because he still hadn't formed a zi ring at fifteen, and the youngest in the renowned sword family.
Once again, he was just a stepping stone in the story: the first failure of the family, and the unworthiness of the genius he was supposed to be.
In the first place, if Seven Hart was not a genius himself, Seojin would not have possessed this body.
"Damn it. No matter where I look, this scenario means that I have to start from scratch. What a pain."
Seojin sighed.
He then sat in the center of the room, placing his hands on his knees, mirroring exactly what the memories had shown him.
"Fudge. Bring it on."